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“No need to thank me, princess. Having you here—safe—is all I wanted.” His eyes soften and my heart turns into a puddle of mush until I remember that he almost killed his father, too.
But he didn’t.
“You know,” I say with a sudden thought. “It’s kind of ironic that you insisted you weren’t going to save me, and yet, you literally did.”
“Did I? If I would have stayed away from you from the start, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been looking into anything.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“That’s what I meant. All that time… I was putting you at risk. I always thought it would be my father finding out and using you against me… in a way, it turned out the way it should have. My father would have ordered a kill for you just to prove a lesson.”
I shudder at the thought.
“The true irony is thatyousavedme. The only light at the end of the miserable tunnel of my life was knowing that there was an end to all of this. That we were working to take them down. It wasn’t life, it was survival.
“But then I met you, and everything changed. The tunnel wasn’t quite so miserable anymore. You became the light and gave me a reason tolive. The moon for this turtle to follow.”
He taps his tattoo and suddenly, I’m done with words. I crash my lips onto his, throwing my arms around his neck. All this information, everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, is taking a back seat to the sudden need coursing through every tendon in my body, every molecule in my bones. I need to feel him, be consumed by him.
He meets my kiss eagerly, wasting no time in coating my lips with his tongue. Our hands are everywhere. His touch my hips, my waist, my breasts, my shoulders. They tangle into my disheveled hair, pulling at my nape while simultaneously pushing me closer.
My hands roam over his torso, lingering on his new tattoo. He doesn’t stop kissing me more passionately than ever, and I’m quickly lost to the feeling of all of this. I want him. Now.
I begin shoving my panties off, but he peels his lips from mine and finishes the job just as hurriedly, careful not to rub them against the gash in my leg. He rips his shirt off, tossing it on the floor with my underwear while my hands work his boxers. He moves them past his knees and kicks them off the bed.
“I love you in my shirt,” he says. “I want to fuck you with it on.”
I moan in response. He shoves my back into the bed and hovers over me in an instant, lining himself up with my entrance. “I don’t have a condom,” he says, looking into my eyes.
“I don’t care,” I whisper. The moment the words leave my lips he thrusts into me and I moan, giving myself completely to this moment. His lips are back on mine, and his hips match the tempo of his mouth. One hand holds him up and the other tangles into my hair, pushing my face into his bruisingly.
“I missed you so fucking much, baby,” he says in between kisses.
“I missedyouso much,” I breathe. When his hips pick up the pace, I lift mine to match his rhythm. I want to take this slow, to savor every second, but I can’t think past the unfiltered need coursing through me.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good. This is where I belong. This is wherewebelong.”
I nod, sweat building on my forehead. He slows down, dropping his chest to mine. My spine feels like it’s been zapped by a lightning bolt when my nipples graze his skin. My skin is alight;everythingis alight.
“You light me up,” he whispers. “I—I need you.”
“You have me,” I say automatically.
“For always? I—” His eyes roll back into his head as I pulse my hips into him and tighten. I can sense where he’s taking this and I’m not prepared. I’m not ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be after everything.
Instead, I redirect him. “Light me up, Lorenzo. Set me on fire.”
His eyes burn into mine and he fucks me harder than he ever has before. I claw his shoulders, cursing and moaning as I come all over his dick. The ecstasy rolls over me as he pulls out and pumps his cock, cuming on my stomach.
With both of us panting, he drops next to me and wraps a leg around mine, scooting me close to him. I close my eyes and savor this feeling. I don’t know how much time passes before he lifts his head, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“I’m going to get you a towel,” he whispers, placing a tender kiss atop my head before unraveling himself from me and walking off to the ensuite. He returns a moment later with a blue washcloth, handing it to me.
“I’d clean it off for you, but I know you’re particular about these kinds of things,” he says with an adoring smile.
“You’re right in this case.”
“In most cases.”
